Trinity: New Order
by SpaceRyder69
Summary: Some time after Alduin's defeat, a new evil begins to surface in Skyrim. Seeking not only the Dovahkiin's death, but a New world Order. He will not have to face this evil alone, as great and powerful Souls are put on the path to convergence. / Current Arc: Convergence! Saga: New Order/ Input and critique greatly appreciated!
1. Prologue: Paths of Fate

Thanks for clicking! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Prologue; Paths of Fate**

 **. . .**

 **The Hero**

 **. . .**

Another night, another terrible dream in the blackest voids of his mind. One of the few places his power meant nothing, no armor no weapons no voice. Just darkness, the same darkness that had plagued him since the World Eater's defeat. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe he'd just been drinking too much again, or maybe it was a warning of things to come.

Before him, he could see a great plain. It was the golden fields outside of Whiterun, there was no mistaking it. But the bodies covering the ground made it clear this was no peaceful premonition. Men and women lay dead or dying, as a crimson rain pours upon the land, threatening to drown them all in blood. This wasn't the Civil War, no no no this was far worse.

He could see a great tear in the sky above, a mighty hand reached out to him. But just as it reached him, a terrible pain pierced his back. Slipping through just the right openings in his ribs, biting deep into his flesh.

 _Awaken!_

He bolted upright in his bed, panting for breath. He looked around slowly, as if making sure he was still in the right place. A small home, his home. Sighing heavily, he brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes as the figure beside him stirred.

"Hmm?" She groaned, opening her eyes slowly, "Kaldr, what's wrong?" The red headed young woman asked worriedly.

"Damn nightmares again..." He sighed, looking towards the window. Sunlight was just creeping in over the city walls, morning had arrived, "I'm sorry Ysolda, did I wake you?"

"Yes, but its okay." She assured, putting on a small smile, "Its morning, I'd be getting up soon either way."

"Right..." The young Nord man nodded, swinging his legs over the beds edge before reaching for his nearby clothes.

Ysolda watched him carefully, reading his mood as best she could, "What did the Priest have to say about these... Nightmares?"

"Nothing helpful," He sighed, tying back his long golden hair to keep it out of his face, "I need to visit the Greybeards..." And maybe speak to Paarthurnax.

"That's a long trip for one question," Ysolda replied, as she began to get dressed as well, "But I understand, when do you plan on leaving?"

"Tomorrow," Kaldr replied, rolling his shoulders as he finished getting his clothes on. Scraping away a bit of stubble with a daggers edge, "I've got a few smithing orders to finish, should leave you with plenty of money while I'm gone." He added with a small smirk.

To which Ysolda chuckled, shaking her head, "You're just trying to spoil me aren't you? You know saving the world was enough right?"

"Perhaps," He answered, walking around the bed to her, "But the world is for everyone, far less personal than something for you alone." Pulling the beautiful maiden against his muscular form, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her own.

She returned the gesture in kind, breaking away only when she had to breathe, "Mmm, well you're doing a good job so far..."

"I'll be sure to grab some sleeping tree sap on my way back, if that helps." His tender expression shifting to a teasing grin.

"You're never going to let me forget about that are you?"

"Nope, never."

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Basilisk**

 **. . .**

Footsteps echoed beyond the cell door, the dark hall beyond it was starting to light up as the sound drew closer and closer. The beast within the cage knew it was the Master, purely by smell he could tell. His reptilian eyes narrowed as the light grew brighter, casting the cell doors shadow upon his black scales. As two men in gilded elven armor appeared by the entrance, the Master stood between them.

His fine robes showed off both his position and magical prowess to all, glimmering runes dotting the sleeves and making intricate patterns across his chest. His deep green eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, he stared into the blackness of the cell and looked upon the Basilisk, "Up, the time has come for your departure." He spoke clear and concisely, but with an edge matching the crack of a whip.

His word was law, and so the beast obeyed. Rising to his feet, chains dragging behind him, his hulking form lumbered towards the door. One of the soldiers undid the lock, pulling the door open while the other rested an uneasy hand on the pommel of his mace, "Quite obedient for a monster..." He noted idly.

"A few years of training does wonders, with the right methods." The Master smirked, hands behind his back, "Now come along, we must get you to the ship." He turned and began to walk, the Basilisk following behind him without hesitation. Tail dragging across the ground, chains following.

"I'm ready?" The guards nearly flinched as he spoke, not expecting the beast to be capable of such things. His voice was low and guttural, but he was clearly intelligent.

The Master was unfazed, "Yes, as ready as we can make you... The time has come to fulfill your destiny."

He kept his head low, nodding slowly as he followed, "And once I am finished?"

"Then you may finally rest, and be free." The Master assured, not bothering to look back as he continued forward.

The cold northern winds billowed across the docks, but the basilisk was unfazed by them. Or, if he was, it did not show. Even in such tattered rags, he showed no sign of submitting the cold even as fully armored soldiers tightened their cloaks. His body was strong, stronger than theirs, he knew that. But Mother and Father wouldn't let him kill them, not yet, they were useful to their plans.

"You will be dropped off up the coast from Dawnstar," The Master explained as they boarded the small ship, "From there, you will travel South to Whiterun, find the Dragonborn and kill him."

"Yes, Master..."

Even with the Master's final orders, another voice resonated in his mind. If the Master's word was law, Her's was divine commandment.

 ** _"And if the Dovahkiin is not there... Destroy everything."_**

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Heir**

 **. . .**

"Welcome, to the Shrine of Azura."

She had traveled a long way to reach this place, this frigid mountain. Crossing sea and land, ash and snow with nothing but a bandaged body and a tattered cloak. To reach this shrine in particular. And now standing before her, was a woman of her own kind. A Dunmer, though she looked older, and garbed in a followers robes. An acolyte, priest maybe?

"The Twilight has told me of your coming," She continued, when the bandaged Dunmer woman didn't verbally respond. "She is ready to speak with you... Approach the altar whenever you are ready."

Seras nodded, stepping forward before placing both hands upon the stone slab. Closing her violet colored eyes, and embracing the Twilight as it invaded her mind.

 ** _"You have my thanks for traveling so far, young one."_ **The voice spoke directly into her mind, thoughts filled with a comforting light, **_"The time has come, and I require a true Champion... And your lineage carries more power than any in Morrowind."_**

A legend's blood coursed through her veins, a lineage that often caused more trouble than it avoided. But she felt no remorse, even with a body like this. Without a word, she nodded slowly. Seras would follow her long sought after destiny, if only to find a purpose in an aimless existence. It was the entire reason she came so far, why her body was chilled with frostbite, why her feet bled through their bandages...

 ** _"The Defilers have begun to make their move, and you must stop them... Or all Tamriel might fall into darkness."_** Not a warning she would give lightly, Seras understood that much, **_"Go to Whiterun, and kill the beast."_**

Azura didn't need to give a proper explanation, as images flashed through her mind of this poor creature. Seras pulled away from the Shrine, looking upon the face of Twilight, before nodding. Without a word, she began to descend the steps and make her way down the mountain once more.

Aranea watched her go, a somber look upon her face, "Good luck, heir of Nerevar... I will pray for you."


	2. Shadows on the Horizon

**Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad people enjoy! I'll try to keep things interesting as the story rolls forward :D  
**

* * *

 **Shadows on the Horizon**

 **. . .**

 **The Heir**

 **. . .**

"Whiterun? Just follow the road southwest, you should arrive by nightfall."

Seras nodded her head to the guard in thanks, before continuing on her way. The cold was less harsh here, but still nipped at her skin through the wrappings. The winds in Winterhold had robbed her of the map a bit early in her journey, she feared getting lost in these mountains but was lucky enough to stumble across a guard patrol. They were helpful, more so than she was expecting from this war torn land.

One thin fingered hand reached up, gripping the pendant around her neck. A gold and silver amulet, depicting the moon and sun together. It was a symbol of Azura, it was the symbol that told her to come to this land in the first place. After communing with the Daedric Prince, she could feel the Twilight's presence watching over her. It was comforting, a sensation she hadn't felt in quite some time.

She couldn't linger on it for long however, as more footsteps sounded on the road ahead. Looking up from the ground, she spotted a young man. A dunmer by the look of him, running for his life as two wolves nipped at his heels. He was wearing simple clothes, perhaps a farmer?

"H-HELP!" He cried out, waving his arms as he saw her. Based on the various cuts and bite marks riddling his form, he had already tried and failed to ward off these creatures.

Raising one hand, the Heir loosed a bolt of fire. The man gasped, seeing a faint glowing beneath her bandages before he covered his face fearing that the flame might hit him.

The ball flew right past him, striking the first wolf with pinpoint precision. The impact made its head snap back, killing it instantly. The second one yelped, flames splashing a little too close for comfort. It began to back off, running back into the nearby treeline and vanishing. Likely going into hiding or trying to circle around, the wolves of Skyrim were tenacious.

Of course, not being able to see it didn't deter Seras. Raising her other hand, she released a similar flame. It bolted through the underbrush, a howl of pain sounded as the beast was struck. It could be heard thrashing around, as the flames consumed it out of sight. Before everything went silent once more.

The young man was panting for breath, and looked at her in awe, "Thank you so much, by Azura you saved my life! I was just making a Pilgrimage to the Goddess' Shrine when those wolves started following me..."

Seras nodded her head silently, and began walking once again.

"Hold on!" Remembering what he'd seen before, he tried to stop her, "You've got the markings don't you? And... And that talisman, I think I've heard of you!"

She stopped briefly, shooting him a sideways glance.

"Rumors of an Heir, one who tried to unite the Great Houses during the Red Year..." He recalled, some of the details were fuzzy but as a former native he'd heard of this one... Or at least one matching her description, "You're not... That Heir, are you?"

She shook her head slowly, continuing forward, "Not anymore."

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Basilisk**

 **. . .**

Fort Dunstad.

A broken, forgotten fort. Long since inhabited by bandits that used it as both a safe haven, gathering place before raids, and skeever fighting pit.

Of course, that was all before this terrible evening...

 _"Shit shit shit shit shit!"_

Words repeated over and over again by a Balin, hardy young nord, as he hid behind a broken wooden cart. Trembling, trying not to make a sound while gripping his axe tightly. Not that it would do him much good, a weapon of iron make would do nothing against the monsters hide. He'd seen that with his own eyes...

Less than an hour ago, just as the sun was beginning to set, this great beast approached the fort from the north. Arrows glanced off his scaly hide, and no weapons of iron or steel could pierce it. The young bandit ran and hid the moment the chief was killed, listening in silent terror as his partners in crime were slaughtered. Those that managed to escape fled in all directions, but this one was just too frightened to move.

"N-No please!" His eyes widened, hearing her voice. Peaking out around the cart, he could see her. Nori, that lovely lass that had joined them just a few months ago. And before her was the beast, its massive frame overshadowing her completely.

It must have been at least nine feet tall, massive broad shoulders, long powerful arms and stout legs. A tail dragged behind it, covered in blood from crushing more than a few of his comrades. A broad jaw lined with jagged teeth, eyes that were mostly black aside from the blue irises. He wore some manner of clothes, tattered rags around his waist nearly forming pants, and chains hanging from his arms and the metal collar.

Said chains had made brutally efficient weapons as well, smashing those who were foolish enough to turn their backs on the beast and run.

The monster was no doubt reptilian in nature, the black feathered main on the back of his head and neck almost made Balin think it was an argonian, but what kind of lizard could become such a beast!?

And those horns... Great black spikes jutting from the back of its head through the feathers, easily capable of goring through even the stoutest of chest plates.

It loomed over the poor girl, even as she brandished a blade threatening to attack. The beasts was wholly undeterred.

Nori on the other hand, couldn't find the resolve to swing. She just kept taking a step back, one after another, slowly being backed into the corner.

She was such a sweet girl, despite a few muggings and the occasional punch to the jaw, what real man wouldn't love such a strong woman? Balin had taken quite a shine to her, and they'd spent more than a few evenings together over previous weeks.

Perhaps that was what possessed him to move, rising from his place behind the cart with axe in hand.

The Basilisk hadn't heard him, its head leaning forward and eyes staring into Nori's own. Before his nostrils flared briefly, sniffing her. Snorting, making her flinch in terror, before it pulled back.

 _"No, not this one."_

"BEAST!" Balin's axe struck him in the side of the neck, sticking into a space between his dense scales but drawing no blood, "FIGHT ME!" He roared, drawing another blade from a nearby body.

"Balin!" Nori cried out, as the Basilisk turned all attention to him.

 _"That one... That one can still die."_ Turning all attention away from Nori, he began lumbering towards him.

"Nori! Run!" He cried out, as he slowly began to back away to draw the beast further from her.

The Basilisk didn't seem to care, hearing Nori begin to run away behind him. Shaking his head back and forth, the axe was knocked free from his neck and fell to the ground. He inhaled deeply, closing the distance with every step before opening his maw, **"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"**

His roar echoed across the land, and into the evening sky. A thunderous sound that, accompanied by his mighty fists slamming the ground, shook the earth between them.

Balin had already steeled his resolve, and knew this was the end, _"I go to Sovngarde!"_

It was over in a matter of seconds. One mighty swing of those claws was enough to send him smashing into the stone wall nearby. He died on impact, skull cracking open against the cold stone.

And now, his body laid with the others. A pile of dead meat, as the Basilisk idly ripped and tore pieces off to eat, bones and all. The night filled with the sound of tearing meat, and crunching bones between his mighty jaws. Staring into the fire, body tired from the hours of walking. This would make a good place to sleep until morning.

 _"You have done well my child."_ Mother's voice spoke.

 _"And caused much suffering..."_ Father added, amusement coloring his tone. Father's voice was never really meant for him, it was always meant for his Brother.

 _"Continue south brother, and let the feast continue..."_

And he hated hearing the voice of his brother.

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Hero**

 **. . .**

"Ah, Dragonborn... It has been some time."

"It is good to see you again, Master Arngeir," Kaldr bowed his head with respect after taking off his Dragonbone Helmet, tucking it under one arm. "Though I'm afraid I did not come for a lesson."

He nodded his head in response, "I expected as much, dark have been my dreams of late... All of us here fear what may be on the horizon, and that it may revolve around you."

The Dragonborn felt a familiar apprehension rising in his stomach, "I suppose saving the world once wasn't enough, it seems the Dragonborn cannot get a moments peace." He chuckled, perhaps in bad taste.

"Whether it is the world in danger, or just you, we cannot say for sure." Arngeir shook his head, motioning for the Dovahkiin to follow as they walked through the temple.

"Has Paarthurnax sensed anything?" Kaldr questioned curiously.

The old man stopped, taking in a deep breath before sighing, "You confirm my fears, Paarthurnax has been gone for some time now... We do not yet know where he went, he simply vanished... I had hoped perhaps that you knew where he'd gone."

"Vanished?" Kaldr repeated worriedly, "But he's... What could that old drake be doing?"

"I do not know," He shook his head, "I trust he is gone for an important reason... But you came for council, and I can only give you one peace of advice, if these premonitions are to be heeded..." He turned to face him as they came to a stop, placing a hand on the Dovahkiin's shoulder-plate, "Nurture your strength, prepare yourself, and find allies... Whatever this new darkness is that clouds my mind, I fear it is not one you can face alone."

The Dragonborn looked into his eyes as he spoke, seeing the intensity and fear hidden within. Something not often betrayed by this stoic old hermits expressions, "Very well, Master... I will work on becoming stronger." He promised with a nod, "Though, I am not sure about finding aid..." Kaldr added after a moments hesitation, "I know those who would seek to aid me, but I would much rather weather the storm alone than put their lives at risk for my sake." He donned his helmet once more, and began making his way to the door after giving him a short bow, "Thank you, Master."

"Dovahkiin," Arngeir spoke, after a few seconds of silence lingered, and the Hero created a gap between them. "Not even you can stop the wheels of fate... And you are not alone, I pray you remember that."

Kaldr stopped for a moment, he considered looking back. But knew it would only open himself to more of the old mans lecturing. And so he pressed onward, thinking of his wife, and friends in Whiterun.

 _"No... I can't possibly risk their lives,"_ He decided internally while passing through the doors and out into the cold, atop High Hrothgars front steps, _"I am the Dragonborn, the Hero of this age... I will protect Skyrim, even if I must do so alone."_


	3. The Beast and the Branded One

**Finally time for some real action, I hope you guys enjoy X3**

* * *

 **The Beast and the Branded One**

 **. . .**

 **The Heir**

 **. . .**

"What's your business here?" The guard at the gate immediately took suspicion of the bandaged woman before him.

"I am visiting the temple of Kynareth." A lie, but in her condition it made more sense than the truth.

"Hmm... You sick?" He asked, noting her appearance.

"No."

"Very well, go on in," He nodded and stepped aside, "You'll find the temple in the Winds District."

"Thank you." She bowed her head slightly, before passing through the large wooden gates.

It was nightfall, just as the guard had told her before the moon was high above by the time she arrived here. The streets were mostly empty, nothing but a few beggars or drunkards passing from the tavern to their homes, stumbling along the way. Guards patrolled under torchlight, but everything seemed to be in order here.

Which meant the beast hadn't arrived yet.

Seras knew it likely wouldn't be long now, so while the town went about its merry evening in blissful ignorance, she decided to rest. It had been a long journey after all. Seras climbed her way to the Wind District up the first set of stairs, finding herself a seat on the bench below the Gildergreen tree. It wasn't the most comfortable, but she'd been walking for days now so it was more than enough for her.

Whiterun seemed like a pleasant enough place. With the Civil War over, and the province back under Imperial control things weren't completely fixed however. She could see the damage that remained from a lengthy battle that took place here. The war had raged for several years, until the Dovahkiin stepped in. She wondered if her coming here had anything to do with him? The powerful Nord warrior, the one who'd slain Alduin the World Eater.

 _"How lucky, to know your Destiny."_

The tired dunmer released a heavy sigh, letting herself relax if only for the moment. Closing her eyes as she focused on what was ahead of her.

It was finally happening, after so many years of searching, she'd finally found her path. To know she was so close, it was invigorating. Chosen by Azura herself to carry out this task, perhaps this would finally allow her to live up to the family name.

But there had to be more to it... Slaying a beast, no matter how vile, was not enough to demand the coming of a true Champion. There were things the Goddess of Twilight was either not telling her, or didn't know. Seras assumed she would learn of them once her task was complete.

She opened her eyes slowly, staring into the clouds above. Her mind clear, and body ready.

 _"I am ready."_

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Basilisk**

 **. . .**

"Its a monster!" The stable hand cried out, "Guards! Guards HELP!"

But the beast ignored him, lumbering alone the cobblestone pathway leading up to the gate. There was no point in trying to be quiet, the chains dragging behind him clanked and clattered against the pathway. He could hear shouting, as the guards were roused from their sleep. It was still early morning, the sun hadn't even reached over the horizon yet, and a heavy cloudcover made it even darker than it should have been. Those currently on guard were but a skeleton crew meant to keep watch.

"SEAL THE GATE!" The commander shouted.

It would do them no good.

He could see no less than two dozen men taking the to ramparts along the way. Bowstrings creaking as they were drawn back. "Loose volley!"

The twang of their bows resounded, followed by the sensation of dull thuds along his hide. Steel arrows, breaking or glancing off his thick scales.

By now, he stood before the massive wooden door. Raising both hands, clenching them into fists, he slammed them against the door. It clanged and creaked, the wood screaming under his assault, but it still stood strong even with sizeable dents in its surface.

"Oil! Bring the oil!" A man shouted, as the Basilisk slammed his fists against the door once more.

Burning hot liquid was poured over his form, boiling oil running down his frame.

It was the first time he'd felt pain in a while, however little it may be, not since the crack of the Master's whip.

 _"Yes, get angry, use your power!"_ Father urged, excited to see his pet finally be put to work, _"Destroy them!"_

He took a few steps back from the gate, even as the guards took aim with flaming arrows intending to ignite the oil.

"LOOSE!" The guard captain commanded, as a dozen flaming projectiles struck his form. Not piercing his hide, but setting his body ablaze.

"Veik... Frein Ag!"

As he spoke the words, a disgusting green liquid was unleashed from his maw. It splashed against the gateway and the gatehouse around it. Some men screaming as it splashed against their armor or exposed faces. The stone and wood began to hiss and crumble, the acidic liquid burning through the structure while those hit by it writhed in agony. Holes were beginning to appear in the doorway, the structure weakening considerably as the gatehouse itself threatened to crumble. The guard captain barking orders to get clear.

"HRAAAAH!" The basilisk roared, flaming body charging the gate once more.

This time what was left of the hinges gave way completely, he smashed clean through gaining access to the city. A number of guards stood in his way, forming a shield wall with blades in hand and archers behind them. A handful of men in the armor of the Imperial Legion were also present, men left behind after the war to remind everyone of the Empire's presence.

"What is that thing, Commander Caius!?" One of the frightened men demanded.

"I don't know, but we're going to kill it!" He assured, blade in hand.

"It used the Voice," Another added in, "You can't be telling me that this thing is some kind of dragon right!?"

"Archers open fire!" Caius ordered, more broad head shafts struck harmlessly against his hide. The fire on his body was starting to dim, as the oil was all burned up.

"HRAAAAAH!" Another thunderous roar, before the beast charged. Slamming into their shieldwall and smashing it in an instant. Stout men and women were knocked over or sent flying. The Basilisk wasting no time going about his killing spree, crushing one man's chest beneath his foot while his mighty claws tore through another.

The blood ran in rivers. People were screaming, some fleeing from their homes towards the higher levels of the city while others hid within, seeking shelter from the monster.

No weapons could pierce his hide, the fire had dealt some damage but nothing near enough to even slow him down. He cut a blood swathe through the city of Whiterun, turning the Plains District into a slaughterhouse.

 _"Yes! Kill them! Destroy Everything!"_

"Veik!" Releasing the acidic liquid in small bursts, following the desires of his brother and father. The liquid splashed against Warmaidens, the roof starting to give way while shouting came from inside. "Veik!" The small home beside the blacksmiths house was struck along its entrance and rightside wall. The wall was crumbling, the roof starting to collapse.

"Everyone! Get to Dragonsreach! Quickly!" A strong voice resounded. Looking to the source, the Basilisk saw two tall nords wearing armor he'd never seen before. A mixture of steel plates and black fur, with intricate patterns etched across it. The duo looked very similar, likely brother, "Your rampage ends here monster!"

"Careful Vilkas," Farkas warned, holding his greatsword at the ready, "This monster has the power of the Voice..."

"HRAAAAH!" The basilisk roared, charging the two of them. Passing into the market area outside the Bannered Mare, surrounded by market stalls. Now empty as all the inhabitants fled into the Winds District.

Vilkas met him with shield raised, using his masterful skill to turn away an outreached claw. Turning the Basilisk's momentum against itself, and slamming his shield into the monster jaw. It was enough to daze him for a moment, giving Farkas an opening.

"If steel cannot pierce your hide I'll crush it instead!" Swinging his greatsword with all his might, a might clang resounded as the flat side struck against the beasts skull.

The Basilisk stumbled away, one hand gripping his rattled head. Snorting as he shook it off, "Waste... My time..." As they closed in once more, he turned and swung with all his might. The heavy chains dragging from his wrists were turned into a deadly weapon. Slamming into both brothers, they were thrown completely off their feet. Smashing through the windows of the Bannered Mare, disappearing inside, "VEIK!" The front of the building was splashed with acid, causing it to start crumbling, trapping any that remained inside.

"Where..." The Basilisk grumbled lowly, eyes darting around rapidly. Sniffing the air, trying to get a sense of things beyond the bloodletting, "Where is the Dragonblood?" He questioned, guttural voice rumbling in the now silent streets.

Why wasn't he here? He was supposed to be here. He NEEDED to be here!

"WHERE?!" He swung his mighty arms, smashing away one of the market stalls and sending it flying in pieces.

"Agh!" His eyes darted downward to the sound, looking upon the faces of a mature woman and a young girl she was clutching protectively. From the look of their position hiding beneath the stall, the Mother was suffering a leg injury, and could not flee.

"Grr..." The Basilisk snarled in annoyance, turning towards the stairs and lumbering away. While behind him, Carlotta Valentia muttered prayers and thanks to every one of the Divines.

Before the Basilisk reached the top of the stairs however, he was met with another figure. A woman by the looks of it, garbed in bandages and a tattered cloak. She stared back at him with nothing but pure apathy in her eyes. Completely unfazed by his appearance, or the blood that soaked his scales.

"You've been burned." She said suddenly, her voice deathly calm as she slowly raised her hands, "You are _not_ invincible."

Lightning arced from her fingertips, lighting up the area before splashing against his form. The bolts stinging and burning against his scales as the beast hissed in pain. Covering his face with those massive arms, before crouching down and lunging at her. Slamming both fists down and cracking the stone steps, missing her completely as she backpedaled closer to the tree.

Landing on her backfoot, she didn't stay on the defensive as most he'd encountered. Instead, Seras lunged for him, her right hand drawn back as purple light swirled through her fingers. An ethereal blade forming in her grasp.

"Graaah!" The Basilisk roared in pain, as she ran the edge of the magic sword across his ribs. Spilling his blood across the earth, tainting the soil as he staggered forward. Pain, so much pain. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to hurt. **"HRAAAAAH!"** Turning around with incredible speed for his size, the beast broadsided Seras with the chains that hung from his wrist.

Her flank took the blow full force, sending her crashing into a nearby cart. She could feel the bones in her left arm, as well as a couple ribs, give way on impact. But she never made a sound, rising to her feet from the wreckage as a golden light shined in her right hand. With a flash, her left arm was healed completely. Bones crackling and skin shifting back into proper place. Though some of her bandages had been torn up, revealing her marred skin beneath. Though most of her skin along the left arm was fine, she had intricate brand marks depicting magic symbols running around her wrist and up her forearm.

The basilisk growled lowly in annoyance, eyes narrowing sharply. His own bloody wound beginning to mend itself, skin melding together and rippling around the gash. He was wasting time, this woman was wasting his time. She was just in his way, "Where... Is... The Dragonborn!?" He demanded, taking another lumbering step forward. Grabbing a hold of a wooden pillar beneath the decorative frames that surrounded the Gildergreen, he ripped it right out of the earth, "BRING ME THE DRAGONBORN!" He roared, throwing it at Seras with all his might, "Su Grah Dun!"

She ducked beneath the incoming attack, letting it smash through the wall of someones home behind her. Her eyes widening as the monster attacked with even more speed than before. Back stepping this time she only narrowly evaded the claws, cutting it so close that she lost some of the bandages covering her chest. Breaking away with a roll past him, she started running through the Winds District, past the temple of Kynareth and the Hall of the Dead.

Holding up both hands, swirling purple lights formed in her palms. Upon release, two rifts opened behind her. The fiery forms of Atronachs took shape, the feminine daedra under her control lashed out with their fireballs attempting to slow him down. The flames exploded on contact with his hide, spreading fire to the thatch roofs of Gray-Mane, and Battleborn.

Though it wasn't her intention, Seras showed no remorse. This place did not matter to her, only killing the beast. Besides, most of the citizens were hold up in Jorvaskr or Dragonsreach by now, under protection of the Companions or the Jarl

The Basilisk lunged through the flames, unfazed by the assault even as his scales showed severe burns. He grabbed the first flame atronach, clamping his jaws shut around her head and sending it back to Oblivion in brutal fashion as it exploded against his body. Burned flesh of his now bleeding mouth slowly mending itself and adding to his disgusting, vile visage.

The second was dispatched when his mighty tail broadsided it, sending it crashing through the window of another home. The explosion of its dying body within only added to the burning of Whiterun.

 _"That pendent."_ Mother's voice suddenly brought his rage into focus, as he turned to face the woman in his way, _"A follower of Azura, kill her slowly."_

And he responded, or rather, his brother did. Opening his maw, the Basilisk unleashed a torrent of blue flames. They splashed across the ground towards her, spreading more fire.

The flames themselves felt evil, invoking a cold and terrible power she had only heard of in stories. She knew exactly what this was.

The Flames of Coldharbour

There was no doubt now, this thing was a Daedric abomination serving Molag Bal. Its power great and terrible, however Seras hadn't been spending her precious moments of respite doing nothing. The tattoos along her arm were burning brightly, purple lights coursing through her as her eyes began to glow as well. Sparks danced between her fingertips, the clouds overhead crackling with lightning as a gust of wind picked up around her.

As the flames drew closer, Seras reached one hand into the sky. Lightning arched down from above with a violent crackle, the earth trembling beneath her as it struck her body. Before she slammed her hand down upon the street, a explosion of lightning and wind was unleashed. The burning homes of Gray-Mane and Battleborn took the blast full force, while the gale it unleashed scattered the spreading flames to the wind.

Even the Basilisk's dread flame was blown away. Before bolts of lightning arcing throughout the blast focused upon him. Striking at the beasts body and channeling the wrath of the skies above into his body. It was enough to knock the burly beast right off his feet, his stunned form tumbling across the earth and only stopping when he crushed one of the benches near the Gildergreen.

The lights faded, and the Heir's magical attack came to an end.

Seras was panting heavily, her own body feeling numb from the amount of electricity that had been flowing through her. She needed a moment to collect herself, but luckily the beast appeared to be dead or at least stunned. Heavy footsteps drew her attention to the nearby stairs, her eyes widening as a terrifying visage appeared through the smoke and dust her attack had created.

It was a man, wearing armor made of bone. He was wielding a mighty great sword of the same material. His face was one silent rage, first directed at the beast, but then at Seras herself.

She knew who he was, there could be no mistaking it. The very air seemed to grow heavy as he approached the wasteland she'd created. The Winds District was in ruin, houses completely collapsed, the hall of the dead's entrance had caved in, and even the temple of Kynareth was burning.

Seras was about to speak, when a drop of water landed on her head. The skies above finally releasing their pent up moisture, no doubt catalyzed by Seras' magic. Rain poured upon Whiterun, and both the Heir and the Hero.

"Hrrrg..." Both of them looked towards the Basilisk, as he began to rise once more. Scales torn asunder, and bleeding in various places. He wasn't dead, but he'd certainly been injured. And he wasn't regenerating like before, "Dragonborn..." He growled lowly, eyes locked onto the armored nord. Of course, he was well aware of Seras' presence now and the threat she posed, and wouldn't let her get in another attack like that.

"You come into my city," The Dovahkiin finally spoke, "Slaughter my people, and burn their homes..." His sharp blue eyes darted between them, "I hope you two have prayed to the Divine's, or whatever vile monster you serve, because you'll be meeting them soon!"

"Dragonborn," Seras spoke, taking a step back as he pointed his blade her, "I am not your enemy."

"Well you're certainly not my ally." He answered quickly.

There was no way around it, the nord was pissed and wanted to kill them both.

 _"Yes... Let the bloodletting continue!"_ Father spoke into the Basilisk's mind, laughing in amusement.

In the cleared portion of the Wind's district, the three began to circle one another. Keeping an equal distance, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Those pulling the strings of fate waited with baited breath.

The convergence had finally begun...

* * *

 **Veik Fein Ag: Acid Melt Burn.** Possibly the first of various new dragon shouts that may appear in this story :D

 **Su Grah Dun:** Just Elemental Fury, increases movement and attack speed with the power of the winds OooOOoOooOOo!


	4. Unrelenting Force, The Dovahkiin's Rage

**Some small formatting changes I figured I'd mention. Some may have already noticed, but with everything I've got planned for this story I figured it should be stated sooner rather than later.**

 **The description and title with change depending on arcs/sagas. Sagas will be over arching storylines, while Arcs will be current events. As you can see the story title is currently "Trinity: New Order" The current Arc is "Convergence" And the Saga is "New Order"**

 **Anyways, sorry if I'm just explaining the obvious here. I just didn't want anyone to be confused if the story suddenly changes names.**

 **Also, I do plan on implementing a few certain mods to some quests and whatnot. But if you know anything about the New Order, you may have already picked up on that...**

 **This story is going to span many years, many adventures, and probably have a lot of Elder Scrolls AU in it. We aren't just sitting on our hands in Skyrim forever, there is a whole world beyond that could be explored. I hope you're as excited as I am :D**

 **Anyways, I've wasted enough of your time, enjoy and let me know what you think! If there is anything specific you'd like this see, any mod quests you'd want explored. I'm open to suggestions :D**

* * *

 **Unrelenting Force, the Dovahkiin's Rage**

 **. . .**

 **The Hero**

 **. . .**

He could hear the screams from outside the city walls. He snapped the reigns of his faithful bay horse to make it go faster, racing past the guards returning from patrol. The Dragonborn rode up the cobblestone path, seeing the arrows in the dirt, broken shafts leading up to the gatehouse.

The building was in ruin, the gate itself in shambles. Nothing left but pieces of half melted wood scattered across the street within.

Leaping from his steed, the Dovahkiin charged in with his mighty blade in hand. Forged from the bones of Alduin's followers, he dubbed his favorite weapon the "Dragon Fang".

Blood and viscera were all he found beyond the gates. A normal man may have lost his resolve, or spilled his breakfast upon the ground at such terrible images. But the Dragonborn had seen this all before, he had created images just like this.

A cruel reminder of the part he played in the Civil War.

"Dragonborn!" The guards had finally caught up with him, a violent roar sounded from further inside the city, "By the gods..." Half a dozen men, stopped in their tracks before the bloody sight, "What could have done this? Was it a dragon?"

Before responding, the Dragonborn rushed to his ruined home. Seeing the wall partially caved in and the rooftop sunken inward. He practically ripped the intact door from its hinges, "Ysolda!" He called out, fearing for her life. The inside was a wreck, the collapsed wall and roof throwing everything out of whack. The entire upper floor had been buried by the roof.

"K-Kaldr..." Her voice was weak, and came from the kitchen.

He could see her, reaching out from beneath some rubble just barely being held up by their dining table. Racing over, he threw his nordic strength against the debris. Gritting his teeth as he pulled upward, "C-Come on, get out while you can!" Creating more room to move for her.

The red headed young woman crawled free of the debris, a trail of blood following her, "Thank you... Kaldr, when I heard the screams I... Locked the door, tried to hide..."

"Save your strength," He ordered, reaching into his bag and pulling out a red tonic, "Drink this," He commanded, reaching for the wooden spike embedded in her ribs, "It should help dull the pain... I'll have to pull this out."

She took a big gulp, wincing in pain from the movements. Before nodding to him, letting him know she was ready. Kaldr nodded in response, and yanked out the wood in one quick motion. Ysolda's scream was short lived but loud, while Kaldr pressed cloth against the wound, "Kaldr... What is that thing?" She asked fearfully.

"I don't know, but I'm going to kill it." He promised, a coldness creeping into his voice, "Guards!" He barked back, two of the individuals that had followed him to the entrance quickly rushed inside.

"What is it Dragonborn?" The armored woman asked.

"Get Ysolda out of here, and look after her." He ordered, rising to his feet after gently resting her head back, "Anyone else, search the other ruined buildings... I'm going to go get rid of this monster."

It was then that a thunderous crash shook the very earth beneath their feet. A roar of thunder and flashing lights came from outside, the Dragonborn looked towards in shock. Watching as the heavens themselves unleashed their fury upon the Winds District. After rushing outside, he could see what little remained of it following the mighty blast. The homes of more innocent people laying in ruin.

He grit his teeth, rage building inside of him. The Dovahkiin marched up the nearest stairs, beside the Drunken Huntsman. As he reached the burned archway, he saw those who were responsible. A woman in tattered bandages, and a beast that lay silent against the Gildergreen. Both appeared to have played a hand in the cities destruction, though Kaldr was sure the monster had been responsible for the all this death.

The woman looked as though she were about to speak, when the reptilian creature shifted. Grunting as it slowly picked itself up off the ground. Body bleeding in various places, but eyes burning into Kaldr, "Dragonborn..."

This thing knew who he was, what he was. Which meant there was a good chance it came here for him. And while people were dying, he was taking a pleasant stroll through the countryside. It only added to his white knuckle rage. His grip tightening so much around the hilt of his blade that it physically hurt.

"You come into my city," Kaldr said sharply, "Slaughter my people, and burn their homes..." He looked between the two of them, holding both responsible for this chaos, "I hope you two have prayed to the Divine's, or whatever vile monster you serve, because you'll be meeting them soon!"

"Dragonborn." The moment the woman opened her mouth, his blade was pointed at her, "I am not your enemy."

Kaldr had to resist the urge to unleash his voice right then and there, "Well you're certainly not my ally..."

He would kill them both, some small repayment for this death and destruction. Even if it was petty, Kaldr didn't care. He was the Dragonborn, a great hero. And heroes didn't let monsters like this, or destructive mages like her, harm innocents.

They began to circle one another, keeping equal distance as each one waited for the other to make a move. The beast appeared the most eager, while the woman seemed hesitant and kept her focus on the monster.

Leaving her wide open.

"FUS RO DAH!"

Kaldr's voice thundered, unleashing a wave of force that threw Seras right off her feet. She was sent crashing into what remained of House Graymane. And just as Kaldr finished speaking, he charged at the Basilisk with murderous intent.

"Wuld Nah Kest!"

He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. Far faster than the Basilisk could have possibly reacted, driving his blade to the hilt in the monster chest.

It happened so fast, the Basilisk only saw a flicker of movement before that burning pain pierced his chest. The realization that it was the Dovahkiin made him both furious and terrified, "GRAAAAH!" He roared in pain and anger, attempting to smash the Dragonborn between his claws.

"Feim!" The hands passed right through him, clapping together with a loud smack. While Kaldr's blade came free without issue and he dashed back, holding his weapon at the ready.

The Basilisk's cold eyes burned into him, the bloody hole in his chest coloring his torso darker by the second. Spilling upon the ground between his legs, _"We require your strength brother!"_ The Basilisk's demented sibling demanded, fearing the true might of the Dragonborn. He drew in a deep breath, clenching his teeth tight. As the magic of the Hist flowed through his form. The Basilisk's wounds began to heal in seconds, right before Kaldr's eyes.

 _"That's powerful regeneration,"_ Kaldr noted, taking a defensive stance, _"Even for an Argonian... Assuming that's what he his."_ Before his stern expression grew colder, "Good, I'm glad you're not dead yet, there is much suffering you still need to answer for!"

"Must kill... The Dragonborn!" The Basilisk snarled out, as his body finished mending, tail slamming against the ground behind him. The beast planted his feet, "Su Grah Dun!" Startling the Dovahkiin with his use of the Voice, the beast charged him with an outstretched claw and unnatural speed, "DIE!"

Broadsiding Kaldr, the nord was sent tumbling across the ground. A chunk of his armor ripped away by the attack, the pauldron of his left arm. But the young Hero sprung back up to his feet with ease. Meeting the monster head on, he swung Dragon Fang in an upward arc. Cutting the Basilisk from left thigh to right shoulder, drawing more blood as the bone blade bit deep, spattering the Dovahkiin's form with it.

"HrrrnAAAGH!" The Basilisk swung his mighty claw once more, but this time the Dragonborn was ready for it. Raising his blade and planting his feet, he took the impact and held his ground. Surprising the beast even further with his incredible physical strength, _"He's strong, too strong!"_

"FUS RO DAH!"

As the words left his mouth, the Basilisk felt the incredible force slam into his body. The winds unleashed with it pushed the two away from one another. The Dragonborn sliding back on his heels while the Basilisk was sent flying by the attack. He smashed through the wall of Kynareth's temple, bringing down a good portion of the roof on top of him.

As things began to go quiet, the Dragonborn winced in pain. Coughing roughly, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, "Dammit... Might have overdone it..." He grunted, voice hoarse and breathing haggard.

The Basilisk was struggling to move, sternum and ribs completely caved in from the force of the blast at point blank range. Every breath was pain, air came in and blood came out. Running from his mouth in rivers as he struggled to rise. His regeneration was struggling to keep up, the monster trembling from a mixture of pain, rage and fear. His mind a place of turmoil, as the voices of his "family" urged him on.

 _"Consume him."_

 _"Break him."_

 _"I'll do it myself!"_

 **"HRAAAAAAH!"**

His voice thundered louder than before, slamming mighty fists into the ruined earth. Eyes burning with hatred for the Dragonborn. He attempted to moved forward, before his movements hitched. Snarling as he looked back, The basilisk could see his chains were tangled in the rubble. Only increasing his rage, the beast thrashed around, breaking more of the Temple's wall while trying to get free.

While the Dragonborn took this moment to recover, bracing himself for another round, "What does it take to put you down!?"

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Heir**

 **. . .**

Moments earlier...

When Seras finally stirred, having blacked out after the Dovahkiin attacked, it took her a second to remember exactly what happened.

"FUS RO DAH!"

Oh right, that.

Sitting up slowly, she looked towards the booming sound. Watching as the Basilisk was sent smashing into the wall of Kynareth's temple. The Dragonborn handily beating the monster back, _"The Voice truly is a power to be reckoned with."_ She noted, wincing in pain from her injuries.

Luckily the distance between them saved her life from anything too serious, a swift healing spell had the dunmer back on her feet. The Dragonborn didn't seem to notice, and was looking rather haggard himself. Perhaps using the Voice in such quick succession had its drawbacks? Or perhaps he was not truly a Master of the Voice as she believed.

Either way-

 **"HRAAAAAAH!"**

The Basilisk had not yet been felled, and the battle would continue. Though at this rate, without a way to destroy the beast completely it seemed like a fruitless endeavor. They would simply exhaust themselves, unless the Dovahkiin had any other powerful tricks up his sleeve.

"What does it take to put you down!?" Kaldr demanded.

While the monster struggled to break free of the debris holding down his chains, Seras approached the young nord, "Dovahkiin."

His eyes darted to her immediately, and once again the Heir found herself at swordpoint, "Keep your distance mage," He warned, not taking any chances, "You're lucky I have not yet removed your head from your shoulders."

Seras knew this was a delicate situation, and could not argue that the Dovahkiin's anger wasn't justified. She had taken little regard for the livelihood of those in Whiterun, focused solely on killing the beast, "If that is your judgement, so be it," She offered instead, "However, before it comes to that... Perhaps we should work together to kill this beast first?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "An alliance?"

"A truce," She corrected, "For the time being..." Seras explained, though she had no interest in fighting him. This would hopefully pacify the enraged nord until she had a chance to slip away, "I only desire to kill this monster."

Kaldr didn't like it, but they stood a much better chance together, "Very well..." Aiming his sword at the beast, "Do you know what this thing is?"

"Some form of Daedra," She explained, the runes along her wrists sparking to life. "It wields magic from Molag Bal's realm of Oblivion, yet also possesses the Dragon's Tongue, as you do."

"So I've noticed," He grunted in response, "You're well versed in magic I'm guessing, could you banish this beast? Send it back to Oblivion?"

It was at times like this, Seras was glad her bandages hid her face. For she could not contain her look of shock at her own stupidity, "Yes, that may be possible." She answered calmly, while inside she was kicking herself, _"Of course! Why didn't I think of that before!?"_

Finally fed up with this struggle, the Basilisk roared and snapped through his chains using the mighty claws he wielded. While freeing himself of the chains, the shackles still remained as he turned upon them both. They seemed to be working together now, that was a problem, **"GRAAAAAAH!"**

"Get to it then!" Kaldr commanded, "I will buy you what time I can!"

The two charged one another, the Basilisk attacking with its hand outstretched. Aiming for the Dragonborn's head with intent to crush it. But Kaldr would never allow the blow to land. Stabbing upward with his blade, he pierced the monsters hand clean through with the Dragon Fang, burying it hilt deep in his palm. While the Basilisk hissed in pain, before his mouth spread into a toothy, crooked grin.

"Mine now." Gripping the weapon with his injured hand, he yanked hard pulling it right out of Kaldr's clutches. Taking it by the hilt, he ripped it right out not caring about the pain it caused him. Before throwing the weapon, Kaldr watching as it sailed far beyond the walls of Whiterun, hurdling through the air. Before the beast turned its deadly gaze upon him once more, "No more sword."

The level of amusement in the monsters tone sent a chill down his spine, something about the beasts demeanor had changed just now. Even so, Kaldr held firm, "So be it." Cracking his knuckles before grabbing a yellow flask from his belt. "You'd better hurry up mage..." And downing the Potion of Strength.

Seras could hardly believe her eyes, as the nord charged the beast head on with nothing but his armored hands. Unleashing a nordic warcry to rival the monsters own roar. His voice echoing in the empty street as the rain poured down upon them.

"Su Grah Dun!" The same Shout the Basilisk had used before, but now in Kaldr's hands. His movements became agile and well over doubled his speed. He got right beneath the beasts guard, swinging up with all his might.

A loud thud resounded, as he uppercut the beast with inhuman strength. The creature stumbled slightly shocked by his continued resistance, but recovered immediately. Swinging around with his mighty tail, he attempted to broadside the nord Hero with bone crushing force. But Kaldr took the blow, digging in his heels he caught the Basilisk by his tail, "Hah!" He released an excited laugh, tightening his grip, "You're mine now Monster!"

 _"What am I doing?"_ Seras shook her head, snapping herself out of her gawking expression before bringing her hands together. The runes carved across her skin were lighting up, preparing her spell. She would take no chances, and so she brought her full might to bare, preparing a Banishment spell that would send all but the Daedric Lords themselves back to Oblivion! "Azura... Give me strength!"

As the blue and white lights began to swirl around her, Kaldr was making the most of his temporarily enhanced power. Gritting his teeth, planting his feet and swinging with all his might. The Basilisk was stunned with disbelief, as the nord pulled him right off his feet, "HrrraaAAAAAGH!" The young man roared, spinning around once before throwing the monster. The Basilisk was sent crashing into the Gildergreen, making the tree tremble and drop leaves upon him. While the beast lay temporarily stunned, "Do it!"

She didn't need to be told twice. While the Basilisk was stunned, Seras unleashed her magic. A beam of holy light erupted from her hands, surging towards the monster as it picked itself up. The beast could only look on fear, bracing for the attack.

On impact, the Basilisk began to howl with pain. Voice turning from deep guttural roars to higher pitched, feral, animalistic screams. It reminded the Dragonborn of Alduin, when he'd finally dealt the killing blow in Sovngarde. Kaldr watched with baited breath, before he saw something. An apparition of sorts, one that looked like a more monstrous version of the beast, leaving its form. The moment it was pushed out, the monster collapsed face first onto the cobblestone road.

Seras released her spell, panting for breath and feeling herself drained from unleashing so much magicka at once. But even so, she had to make sure this thing was dead. And so she approached its limp body, joining the Dovahkiin as he checked it over.

"Something isn't right here," The Dragonborn stated, "I can still feel a pulse, it isn't dead." His entire upper body throbbed with pain, even with the Potion of Strength, he could feel his muscles tear upon throwing the beast.

"Of course," She answered with a nod, "Daedra do not die, they simply return to Oblivion... This creature however, I am not sure it is entirely Daedra... If would have been sent back to Oblivion otherwise."

"I saw something leave its body when your spell hit," Kaldr mentioned, narrowing his eyes, "Perhaps this beast was just a host..."

"That is-" Seras' words hitched, as the Basilisk's body began to shift. Muscle mass shrinking, scales adjusting position, horns and claws receding. In a matter of moments, the hulking form of the rampaging monster had returned to... Well, it looked like an average argonian. Retaining the black scales, feathers on the back of his head, and horns.

"By the Nine..." Kaldr muttered, seeing the scars all over the arognians back. Whip marks, no mistaking it. And considering an argonian's capacity to heal, this must have been quite a lashing to make the marks last. A few pieces were starting to fit into place, and a number of questions were roused in the Dragonborn's mind. Even after everything that had happened, the rain pouring down overhead and the silence following their battle gave him a moment to cool off.

"In this form, he'll be much easier to kill." Seras stated, holding up her hand as lightning sparked between her fingers.

"Hold on." He grabbed her by the wrist, not too forcefully, but enough to turn her aim away the Basilisk's head, "You just said this thing might not be entirely Daedra, and I'd say this proves it." Kaldr stated, standing up fully, "Something like _this_ , doesn't just happen... I think somebody made this creature."

"And what difference does that make?" The dunmer questioned, quirking an eyebrow, "It still needs to die."

 _"All of us here fear what may be on the horizon, and that it may revolve around you."_

The words of Master Arngeir were making much more sense, and that was scary, "Something bigger may be happening here, and this monster may know about it." He explained calmly, pointing to the unconscious man, "I say we tie him up, preferably in chains, and question him once he wakes."

"And if he does not wake?" Seras questioned, not liking this at all, "Or worse, if he turns into that monster again and kills more people?" She was supposed to kill the beast, her task was not yet completed.

"If he shows any signs of aggression I will run a blade through his skull myself." Kaldr promised with a nod, "But if someone is making monsters capable of this kind of power, I'd prefer to know about it." He knelt down once more, picking up the argonian with ease and throwing him over one shoulder. Not at all being gentle, "You're free to come along or run off, elf."

Seras blinked, "How did you know I was-" Before she saw her own appearance. Many of her bandages now tattered showing her skin color, that and her violet eyes were surely a giveaway, "Hmph, seems I need to fix myself up... Very well, I will remain by the creatures side until you've finished your interrogation, and kill it once we're finished." She decided, following beside him as they started the climb to Dragonsreach.

"Very well... I am Kaldr, by the way."

"Seras, it is an honor to meet you Dragonborn."

* * *

 **Words of Power time!**

 **Fus Ro Dah: Unrelenting force (Duh)**

 **Su Grah Dun: Repeating myself here, but Elemental Fury.**

 **Feim: First word of Become Ethereal.**


	5. The New Order

**The New Order**

 **. . .**

 **The Basilisk**

 **. . .**

When his eyes finally began to open, he could see nothing but darkness. There was cloth wrapped tightly around his head, likely to keep him from seeing where he was. His grasp of the situation came about quickly, while the chains tightened around his arms and legs. Tied down to a chair, it was clear to him what had happened upon his defeat.

 _"Brother?"_ He asked in his head, while those manning the chains began to mutter things to one another, _"Father? Mother?"_ But he couldn't hear them, as if they had vanished completely from his mind.

"He just awoke a moment ago," The voices around him became more clear as the ringing in his ears stopped. Footsteps approaching, familiar smells, "Seems a bit dazed, hasn't said anything or tried to break free."

Based on the smell, and the clatter of chains and doors, he could tell this was a dungeon.

"Good," It was the voice of the Dragonborn, standing just a few feet away, "Leave us then."

"I'll be staying," Another nord spoke, this one sounding angry, on edge, "If that's a problem, you can take your monster and interrogate him elsewhere."

"Easy Balgruuf," Kaldr replied, "Nobody understands your fury better than I, and it is justified, you may stay but you should keep your distance in case this thing breaks out."

"Very well, you've done enough for my people to earn my patience for the moment."

Releasing a small sigh, the Dragonborn stood in front of the argonian, "Can you understand me?"

The basilisk nodded slowly, but remained silent for the time being.

"Do you know where you are?" He asked, trying to get a read on this beast, "Do you know what you were doing?"

"I..." His voice was much calmer than that of the beast, "I was... In Whiterun, I was... Sent to kill the... Dragonborn..."

"So you were aware of your actions?" The Dovahkiin questioned, narrowing his eyes, "You were in control?"

"Yes." No sooner than the words left his mouth, did an armored fist strike his jaw. Snapping his head to the left, drawing blood inside of his mouth. He didn't show any sign of resisting the attack, looking back up at Kaldr immediately through the blindfold.

"Why then?" He demanded sharply, "Why kill so many? You were looking for me, so why slaughter the guard!?"

"Father and Brother..." He muttered, head slowly turning down, "They told me... Told me to destroy everything..." His nostrils suddenly flared, head raising, "It isn't just you... That woman is here too." He turned his head slightly, detecting her scent behind him somewhere, "I almost didn't notice..."

"Focus, monster." Kaldr ordered, starting to pace in front of him, "Who sent you?"

"The Master sent me." He answered, looking back towards him, "A sect of... Elves, Thalmor..."

"Are you saying the Dominion is responsible for this!?" Balgruuf demanded, "This violates so many- Does the Empire know about this!?"

"The Thalmor sent you after me," Kaldr needed this thing to focus, he needed every fine detail he could get, "Do you know exactly who it was? Can you give me a name?"

"No... They made me refer to him as the Master." He shook his head slowly, "But... They weren't regular Thalmor... Called themselves, the New Order."

"And where are they?"

"An island..."

"Where is the island?" Kaldr pressed.

"I do not know, I was rarely let outside..."

"Elven bastards," Balgruuf grit his teeth, "I side with the Empire, and the Dominion sends a monster to raze my city!?"

"Jarl Balgruuf," Kaldr shot him a sharp look, "If you cannot remain calm, you need to leave," He advised, "I hate the Thalmor just as much as you, but we cannot take everything this beast says with blind faith." Before looking back to the argonian, "What are you exactly? Do you even have a name?"

"They called me... The Basilisk," He answered, wincing as he shifted in his chains, "But... My name was- is, Milos." The fog clouding his mind was slowly ebbing away.

"And what are you," Kaldr repeated, crossing his arms, "You're no normal argonian, that much is for sure."

"Mother and Father, they wanted to kill you... As did the Thalmor," Milos explained, what little details his "parents" had given him, "So, they made a pact..." Who were his parents again? Those guiding voices... No, they weren't his parents.

"Your Mother and Father, who are they?" Kaldr demanded, having a good idea based on what Seras had told him.

They were monsters that offered guidance and comfort throughout his torture. "Namira, and Molag Bal," He stated grimly, the realization of his manipulation starting to hit him as his mind cleared. "They hate you, Dragonborn..."

Seras shifted nervously in the back of the room. Not one, but _two_ Daedric Princes were involved in this? No wonder Azura called for a champion...

"Why?" Kaldr quirked an eyebrow, "I don't exactly remember doing anything to intentionally piss off a Daedric Prince recently."

"Namira is the mistress of decay," Milos explained, "Dragons do not age, they do not die... They are an affront to her very nature, and you are the chosen of Akatosh, the creator of these beings... To kill you would spit in the face of the God who made her most hated foes."

That made some sense, not that it was any comfort, "And Molag Bal?" He already knew why the Thalmor wanted him dead, because he was another man of Dragonblood, and could very well be a thorn in the side of any future Dominion plans for Skyrim or even the Empire now that his allegiance to them was clear.

"I do not know his plans," Milos shook his head, "Only that he wanted me to cause great pain and suffering, and forced me to accept my broth-" His words hitched as he shook his head, remembering what his "brother" really was, "That _demon_ , into my body... To bind me to him."

"And what was that demon exactly?" Kaldr questioned, remembering what he saw leaving the monsters body.

"A mighty Daedroth," The argonian answered, "Forced into my body, so I would be a more effective killing machine."

 _"Well it certainly worked..."_ Kaldr noted internally, digesting this information, "And is that Daedra gone now?"

"I can no longer hear any of their voices," Milos gave a rather indirect answer, "But, I doubt the Daedroth is gone for good... His soul was tied to mine for far too long..."

"And will he turn you into that monster again if he returns?"

"I do not know."

Silence settled in between them, while Kaldr took everything into consideration, "Just a few more questions... First, why you?"

"What do you mean?" Milos tilted his head slightly.

"The Dominion want my Talos worshiping head on a spike," Kaldr shrugged, "And I'm sure many would clamor for the chance to take the title of Dovahkiin killer, so why did they make an argonian do it?" He asked, more so a curiosity than a piece of the puzzle, "To cover their tracks if you failed?"

"Because an Altmer would not survive the ritual of binding," He answered, "That's what they told me... The merging of the Daedroth into the mortal body was... Dangerous... Restoration magic couldn't be applied, because it would interfere with the magic required for the binding... But my tribe, my clan they..." Milos lowered his head slowly, "We were well known in Black Marsh for our regenerative abilities, thanks to our close relationship with the Hist..."

A grim answer, and Kaldr had a bad feeling his second question would have a darker one, "Are there more of you? Did the Thalmor succeed in making more monsters?"

Milos was silent for a moment, as if he had to accept the fact himself before speaking, "I was... The only successful binding... As far as I know."

Implying there were other attempts, Thalmor bastards, "Alright... Last question." Kaldr drew in a deep breath and sighed. His hatred for this creature diminishing slowly, understanding that he was just another pawn in a grand scheme, "You had control over your actions, so why didn't you run?" He questioned, "With your power, you could have easily escaped from any Thalmor prison, or even flee once you made it to land... So why come here and risk not only your own death, but cause the deaths of so many others?"

"Namira influenced me with a desire to consume, while Molag Bal and the Daedroth stoked hatred and anger inside of me, driving me forward... Even so, there is nowhere I could go where the Thalmor would not hunt me, I knew that." Milos answered, not bothering to look up at him. Closing his eyes beneath the blindfold, "They promised me I would be free... That I could rest, once you were dead... But even in failure, I will find my rest..."

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" He asked, "That's how this ends, either you kill me... Or they will, either way I will die..." His thoughts turning inward, for the first time in a long while he felt solace in his own mind, _"I must die."_

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Hero**

 **. . .**

 _"Is this the Divine's way of testing me?"_ Kaldr wondered, staring down at this man... This creature, used and thrown to the wolves by the Thalmor. His anger had completely subsided, and he knew killing this thing now would bring no satisfaction, only a merciful death.

"Are you finished?" Balgruuf questioned, "I think it's time we put this creature out of it's misery."

"Perhaps..."

"You don't think that he deserves it?" The Jarl demanded, voice taking a sharper edge.

"I lied, one more question." The Dragonborn said suddenly, focusing on the argonian.

"Go ahead..." Milos replied, waiting.

"You killed every guard that stood in your way," Kaldr began, recounting the events told by the townsfolk that were waiting in the Jarl's Palace, "Nearly killed two members of the Companions... But you spared two people," He stated, watching the Basilisk carefully for any shift in disposition, "A woman and her daughter, they said you had them cornered, and yet you let them live... Why?"

"..." He remained silent, as if deep in thought for what felt like an eon of uncomfortable quiet between them. "I saw no woman or child... Just a ruined vegetable stand..."

"Dragonborn, what does this have to do with anything?" The Jarl questioned, losing patience.

Kaldr ignored him, kneeling down in front of the Basilisk and pulling away his blindfold. Letting the argonian see, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the light, "If I let you live, what would you do?"

Milos looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. Confusion coloring his own features, "My life is forfeit, Dragonborn... I will do as you say." He answered, lowering his head.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Balgruuf shouted, stepping forward as Kaldr began undoing the argonian's chains.

"Good question." Seras added as she approached from behind the Basilisk.

"As of right now, Milos is our best chance at getting more information or even a location on this New Order group," Kaldr explained, not at all threatened by their approach, "Until I know more, he is an asset we cannot throw away carelessly."

"He slaughtered half my guard!" Balgruuf exclaimed, slashing a hand through the air, "And with that damned elf over there he laid waste to half my city! You overstep your boundaries Dovahkiin, no matter what you've done for this city I cannot allow you to free this monster!"

"Would you raise your sword against me then, friend?" Kaldr questioned, undoing the final chain link and letting them fall around the argonian's legs.

He hesitated briefly, clenching his fists tightly, "What am I supposed to tell the guards who watched their comrades get ripped apart!? Or the citizens that lost their homes huh?! Dragonborn, you do not know what you're asking of me... "

"I am asking you to trust me," Kaldr argued, turning around to face him, "I do not plan on forgiving what has happened here today... But since coming to Skyrim, since becoming the Dovahkiin, I have seen many great and terrible things... But here, I see someone that only desires freedom." Turning back around to the Basilisk, he extended a hand, "If you truly want to be free..."

 _"Not even you can stop the wheels of fate... And you are not alone."_

"Help me." Kaldr pleaded, "Help me get rid of this New Order, that threatens my very life... And free yourself from them."

Milos stared up at him, his tired eyes looking into the Dovahkiin's own. Before drifting down to his hand, "I..."

"If you truly seek the release of death," Kaldr added, "I will grant it, after you've helped me crush these Elves... As payment for the lives you took here today."

 _"Ah, another debt..."_ Milos lowered his head for a moment, sighing a bit before taking the Dragonborn's hand, "Very well... I am at your disposal, Dovahkiin."

Kaldr pulled him up, before looking to Seras, "You've been quiet, do you plan to stop me?"

"I want to..." Seras stated, one hand gripping her pendant, "However... Azura's presence has grown... Quiet, I believe she too is conflicted... So I will return to her shrine, and seek council."

Kaldr nodded slowly, "Very well, should she decree that you help me as well... I would certainly welcome your power."

"Jarl Balgruuf!" The door leading to the surface burst open suddenly, as Irileth came running down, "You must come quickly, the Thalmor are here!"

"What?" Both Balgruuf and Kaldr exclaimed.

"They demand to speak with you, and they've brought a small army." She explained, "Farangar is keeping them distracted, but they barged into Dragonsreach and demanded your presence, they say they're here to restore order to the Hold."

"And what does the Empire have to say about this?!" The Jarl demanded as he stormed towards her, "This can't be sanctioned!"

"Supposedly it is," Irileth answered, shaking her head, "They've got paperwork, this all seems fishy sir, its as if they were ready for this..."

"Very well, I'll deal with them." Balgruuf sighed heavily, shaking his head before looking back at them, "You two," Pointing at Kaldr and Milos, "There is a sewer drain that runs from here to outside the walls, I suggest you use it... I will have no more conflict in my city today." Before he continued on his way up the steps.

Kaldr nodded, "Thank you... Come on, lets get out of here, I know where the drain is."

Seras quirked an eyebrow, "How?"

"I've been in jail, once or twice..."

 **. . .**

"What is the meaning of this?" Jarl Balgruuf demanded as he entered into the palace. Now flanked by no less than a dozen Thalmor soldiers in full elven armor. In the center of the room ahead stood a tall Altmer in fine justiciar robes, guarded by elves in glass armor, "What grounds do you have for marching an army into my city!?"

"Watch your tongue, Jarl," The Elf narrowed his eyes sharply, "I understand this has been a stressful time for you, given the state of your crumbling city... But we bring only relief and order to your people." He assured, "We have wagons loaded with supplies, and our healers are already seeing to your wounded."

He already didn't trust this man, like all Thalmor he had that condescending look in his eyes. Though this one was much older, skin a sickly grey and hair a faded shade of gold, "As much as I appreciate your support, I'd like to know why the Empire sanctioned this, without speaking to me at all... And who are you?"

"I am leading Jusiticiar Tilar Aedriath," He explained, giving a slight bow of his head, "A dangerous fugitive escaped during transport when the boat he was on sank along the coast... We have spoken to General Tulius about this, and it would be in everyone's best interest if the Thalmor aided in search given how... Depleted, the Legions here are currently."

"Well I do not know if the monster that attacked my city was your fugitive or not," He narrowed his eyes, making suspicions clear, "But your arrival is quite timely... The beast had only just fled the scene before your arrival." And now it was time to play the political game.

"Fled, you say?" Aedriath quirked an eyebrow, "How very interesting, and what pray tell, could make such a deadly beast flee?"

"There was a wandering mage," Irileth spoke up, understanding what the Jarl was trying to do, "Quite powerful, she faced off with the monster and chased it from the city... Last the guards saw, they were heading west."

Aedriath had to give them credit, they played the game quite well. But their guile revealed how much they knew. The Justiciar knew they were lying, all reports tied the beast to fighting the Dovahkiin here, the shouts could be heard from far beyond the walls after all. But the fact that the Jarl was not forthcoming with this knowledge meant that not only had the Basilisk been captured, but he was willing to talk.

This was not part of Molag Bal's plan.

And it left them in a precarious position. To act the wrong way now, would reveal they knew of the beasts intentions here. Implicating the Thalmor in a politically damning way. Even so, the Dragonborn escaping at this point was not a problem. The entire reason the Thalmor came at this opportune time was to act as a contingency for such an event...

"How fortunate," Tilar finally said after a moments thought, "Either way, your city is in ruin and your people at risk... Under direct order from High Queen Elisif, you and your court are to report to Whiterun."

"And what of my city?" Balgruuf demanded, "And my people? You can't just expect me to leave them here without a leader."

"While the city is being repaired and the area searched, your people will be under our guard." He assured, smirking faintly, "You have my word that no harm shall come to them."

 _"So that's their game..."_ Balgruuf understood now that no amount of political guile would get them out of this. The Thalmor truly were gunning for the Dragonborn, going so far as to take his entire city hostage. Even if their monster had failed to kill him, the Hero would hesitate to act with his wife and friends in Thalmor hands, "Very well... I will, prepare my court." He relented.

"See that you do," Tilar nodded, "I shall inspect the city, and prepare my reports and orders for supplies to fix the place up..." Walking past him, guards in tow, "Take heart, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater... When you return, the city will be better than before."

As the Thalmor filed out alongside their leader, Balgruuf's fists were clenched tightly with white knuckle rage, "Damn them..."

"What are your orders sir?" Irileth questioned, ready to act.

"We do as they say for now," He answered, shaking his head, "And trust in the Dragonborn..."

Silently hoping now that the beast did prove to be a useful asset. More specifically, hoping that it would rip apart this... Tilar, Tilar Aedriath.

 **. . .**

"Sounds like things didn't go as planned." The woman acting as second in command stated rather bluntly, as she walked the battlements alongside Aedriath. She was much younger than him, angled features and a deadly sharpness to her orange bosmer eyes. Wearing sleek black elven armor more form fit and light.

"Not exactly Mira, but we have secured our position in the center," He answered calmly, speaking low enough for no eavesdroppers to listen in, "And even if the Basilisk failed us, with his wife and city in our grasp the Dovahkiin will think twice before acting against us... That should buy us the time we need to prepare."

"Enough time to find Molag Bal's sacrifice?" She quirked an eyebrow, coming to a stop.

"Yes, I should think so," Aedriath nodded, "What truly concerns me, is this mage they mentioned..."

"I figured that was a lie."

"The fact that she alone drove off the Basilisk, yes," Aedriath answered, scratching his chin, "But there are more than enough signs to support that a powerful mage was here... Our greatest strength against the Dragonborn and even the Basilisk is their lack of magical affinity, even if they did work together we would crush them beneath a hail of spells..."

"But if they had a powerful mage on their side..."

"Indeed," He came to a decision quickly, looking back at her, "Find out details, once you have enough to go on, get wanted posters up and trackers deployed."

"Right away sir."

"In the mean time, I will send word to our members back at base," Aedriath continued, "We must commune with Molag Bal, and figure out just what is going on with his beast..."


	6. A Dagger In The Back

**A Dagger in the Back  
**

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Basilisk**

 **. . .**

"Riverwood is not far from here, just a bit further." Kaldr urged, as they marched up the loose stone path leading deeper into the forest and up into the hills beyond Whiterun's valley. It had been a few hours since they escaped through Whiterun's sewers. Seras left to return to Azura's shrine, leaving them to escape the area and gather some supplies. Though by now it was late evening, the rain had stopped but the clouds overhead made it nearly as dark as night.

"What is waiting for us in Riverwood?" Milos asked quietly, following behind him obediently.

"A general store with clothing, for one." Kaldr stated, "You might have managed before, but you can't go running around in Skyrim in nothing but that ragged cloth."

True, since shifting back and losing all the shackles Milos was now garbed in nothing but a loincloth. Not exactly having time to get him a pair of pants before fleeing, "Fair..." The coldness of the approaching night was beginning to make itself known to him. He'd been able to ignore it before, when he was one with the beast, but now... Well, Milos was feeling more mortal than he had in quite some time.

"We'll stay in town for the night, and tomorrow we'll make our way to my... Other home." Kaldr added.

"I thought Whiterun was your only home?" The argonian questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"Its where I live, but since defeating Alduin I built another in secret," He explained, "Deep in Falkreath's woods, to store some of the more dangerous magical items I'd found in my journey."

"Hmm..." Milos grunted in response, understanding his reasoning well enough. Up ahead he could see the bridge, and across it was the small town of Riverwood.

"Besides, I'm going to need a new sword," Kaldr shot him a look, "Because somebody threw it into the middle of nowhere..."

"You stabbed me... Several times," Milos answered calmly, "I am not going to apologize."

After crossing the bridge, the Dragonborn lead Milos into town. Waving to the guards, who looked over the nearly naked argonian confused. The Dovahkiin simply explained that he'd been robbed by bandits. A simple enough lie, believable. Before leading him to one of the larger buildings, a sign hanging over the door but it was too dark to read it.

"Wait out here." He ordered, approaching the door.

"Won't they be sleeping?"

"Yes, but I've got a key." He answered, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Leaving Milos out in the dark, alone. He shifted nervously, putting his back to the wall. Not caring about those that stared when walking by, he was far beyond pride or modesty after everything that had happened.

Things were starting to become more clear to him, with the fog of Daedric corruption lifted from his mind and that demon purged. Milos had no idea if the Daedroth would return, but had no plans of letting it conquer him again. But beyond that, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do other than follow the Dragonborn. He was alone in a foreign land, no way to return home especially with the Thalmor likely hunting him... Not that he had much of a home to return to anymore.

"Alright, take these." Kaldr said while exiting the building. Handing the argonian a bundle of simple clothes, just some brown cloth pants and shirt with leather boots and a cloak to ward off the cold.

Milos nodded, quickly starting to slip on the breeches. It was the first time he'd worn anything of the sort in quite a while. And even before, his people did not make such soft cloth, "Thank you..."

"This way, we need a room at the inn." He waved for the lizard to follow, making his way to the next building over. Pushing open the door to the Sleeping Giant Inn.

"Dragonborn," The man behind the counter greeted, the few patrons within raising their mugs to him, "What can I do for you?"

"Need a room for myself and my friend here." Kaldr explained, "And a few bottles of mead."

"Coming right up, take the larger room on the left." Orgnar answered with a nod, kneeling behind the counter to fetch them the bottles while Kaldr made his way to the room.

Milos followed behind him, keeping his eyes down and mouth shut.

Once the drinks were delivered, the Dovahkiin took a seat at the small table within. The door was closed, leaving the two alone with some small amount of privacy, "Take a seat, Milos." He ordered, popping off the cork on one bottle taking a long drink from it. Once the lizard took to the chair across from him, Kaldr slid him a bottle, "Drink, I've got a few questions I'd like answered..."

The lizard quirked an eyebrow, taking the bottle in hand and inspecting it, "Very well... But why did you wait until now to ask them?"

"A walk is a great way to clear your head," He answered simply, "Even if it is while you're evading Thalmor soldiers... Needless to say, after what happened in Whiterun, and all these new developments involving the... 'New Order', as you call them, I had some things I needed to think about."

A pop sounded as Milos removed the cork, "Alright... I'll answer what I can."

"First, you came to Whiterun to kill me, that much is true... But how much did you know about my life there?" He asked, weighing a few things in his mind.

"Nothing." He answered honestly, "I was dropped off on the northern coast, and told where to go... Namira and Molag Bal guided me from there."

 _"Then he did not destroy Breezehome to directly hurt me."_ The Dragonborn nodded slowly, "My wife was injured during the attack, one of the homes you attacked collapsed and nearly killed her." His grip tightened around the bottle, "She was unconscious after our battle, I did not have time to say goodbye to her..." Before taking another long drink, nearly finishing the bottle.

"My apology would mean nothing, and not be genuine," He answered, eyes glued to his own bottle, "And I do not think you're looking for one..."

"..." Perhaps that was true, but that statement alone raised another question, "Do you care at all about the lives you took?" Kaldr questioned, looking at him quizzically.

"No." His answer was short, and honest.

"Are you truly such a terrible creature?" Kaldr asked with a scoff, "You feel nothing for the life lost there?"

"I do not weep for people that are not my own, personalizing every life you take will lead to nothing but madness," Milos stated, looking him directly in the eyes with a more serious expression. Far less passive than he'd been so far, "I learned to kill long before the Thalmor took me, do not presume that the Basilisk is all I have ever been."

"Then enlighten me," The Dragonborn retorted, releasing a loud belch and popping off the cork on his second bottle, "What were you before?"

"A sellsword, mercenary, bounty hunter," He replied, finally bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long drink of his own. The mead felt good, and tasted better. The first liquid other than water or blood he'd tasted in a long time, "Aah... My clan was... Dangerously close to the border of Cyrodiil along the south coast, and small, so like many I did whatever was necessary to earn the money we needed to stave off bandits or pirates."

"Not often an argonian leaves for work outside of their home if they were born and raised in Black Marsh, at least that is my understanding..." Kaldr noted, leaning back in his chair.

"Well I wasn't always in that line of work," Milos explained, "I learned as I got older that killing the same bandits and pirates that harassed us was far more profitable than living under them... Afterwords, I sought work in Cyrodiil, and sent what money I didn't need back home." He shrugged casually, "The land was in absolute turmoil during the Great War, plenty of business opportunities that paid well even after it ended."

"And how did the Thalmor get involved?" Kaldr questioned curiously, ignoring his blatant war profiteering.

"Not sure really," Milos sighed shaking his head, "I got a letter one day saying that I needed to return home, that the Dominion was harassing the village... Rather than return and join in the elders arguing about asking the An-Xileel for help, I snuck onto the Flagship sitting beyond our shore long with a few others and mounted their captains head atop the mast... Whatever they were looking for, it became clear we weren't going to give it to them, so they attacked... Dragged away the entire village in chains, killed those who resisted until learning of our powerful healing capabilities... From there we were experimented on, until it became time to deal with you that is."

"I am sorry," Kaldr said, after digesting the information, "That sounds terrible..."

"Mmm..." Was his reply, against the bottle of mead he was currently finishing off, "When you make a living out of others dying, you know things won't ever end well for you." Milos spoke grimly, "To think otherwise is just foolish optimism... Even so, suffering their torture was not the worst part, its not the thing that I regret..."

Kaldr knew exactly what he was talking about, "I fought in the Civil War... No, I ended the Civil War," He explained, narrowing his eyes as he remembered, "Too many good men and women died... People I knew, comrades on both sides..." He shook his head slowly, "The part we both regret, is that while they all died... We didn't."

"Aye."

Kaldr remained quiet, staring at his second bottle for a few moments. The silence settled in between them, the talking of those outside became louder before going quiet. People were leaving, it was getting late after all.

"How did you learn to speak in the Dragon's Tongue?" Kaldr asked suddenly, remembering something that was perhaps a more personal question.

"A Dragon taught me."

The empty bottle in the Dragonborn's hand shattered as his grip snapped shut into a fist. Fearing the worst, he pressed on while Milos looked at his hand confused, "How did the Thalmor summon a Dragon to aid them?"

"I do not know," He shook his head, "I have little understanding of the Voice, I speak the words and things happen... They called for him, and he answered... They offered him information, and he paid with power... Letting me have his understanding of certain Shouts."

"His name," The Dovahkiin's brow furrowed, apprehension rising within him, "What was his name?"

"Paarthurnax."

Kaldr rose from his seat, letting the shards of bottle fall as he made his way to the door, "Stay here and get some rest, we leave at first light." Before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

Milos quirked an eyebrow as he went, not quite understanding the situation. Either way, he was looking forward to an actual bed...

* * *

 **. . .**

 **The Hero**

 **. . .**

"OD AH VIING!"

Kaldr was barely beyond the towns border when he released his shout. Voice calling to the sky, as a dozen questions whirled around in his mind. What was the old dragon up to? Why did he help the Thalmor? Were the Blades right about him? Hopefully the crimson drake would have some answers...

It was only a few minutes before he began to hear the wing beats. A nearby guard began to draw his bow, but the Dragonborn held up a hand to stop him, "Relax, this one is with me." He assured.

The massive form of Odahviing landed before him, shaking the ground briefly and perhaps stirring a few from their slumber in Riverwood. But Kalder didn't care, he was angry, "Ah, Dovahkiin, you call upon me yet I see none that stand before you." The old lizard greeted, his head drifting to look at Riverwood, "Unless of course..."

"What is Paarthurnax up to?" He demanded, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"... So it seems the life of a simple blacksmith has not yet deprived you of your senses," Odahviing chuckled in amusement, "Still, it took you quite some time..."

"You knew something was going on and said nothing?" The Dovahkiin questioned, hands clenching into fists, "I thought you were loyal to _me_ , Odahviing, do I need to prove my mastery over you once again?"

"No, that will not be necessary," He answered, taking a calmer tone, "But many who were emboldened by your victory over Alduin, have grown impatient..."

"What do you mean?" Kaldr narrowed his eyes at the Dragon.

"Upon defeating the World Eater, you ended the Civil War here in a matter of weeks with a mighty show of force," He explained, fondly remembering the times he was unleashed upon a Stormcloak garrison, "Yet now, you waste away your days on bandits, and forging weapons that you yourself will not carry into battle..."

"I did not kill Alduin and end the Civil War because I _wanted_ to keep fighting, wyrm!" Kaldr argued pacing before him, "I fought to end the fighting, and protect my homeland!"

"And what a wonderful job you are doing," Another chuckle escaped the Dragon's maw, "Windhelm faces incursion from Stormcloak remnants, who consider you more a villain than hero... Markarth, rife with corruption and Forsworn raiders, Riften home to a den of thieves," His tone growing louder, more aggressive, "Solitude faces necromancers trying to revive an old evil, while smaller cities and villages are beset by vampire attacks... And now your very own home, controlled by an enemy you hate more than the Dragons you exist to destroy!"

Kaldr took a step back, taken aback by his sudden outburst. The painful truths he thrust upon him, "I-I don't-"

"As with Alduin, learning of Paarthurnax and his scheming I have decided to sit and watch," Odahviing continued, "For watch I have, and I have seen you abandon your path, as a warrior- A doom driven hero! For the life of a quiet citizen..." His eyes narrowing sharply as he spat the words with disgust, "Your lack of experience to the cruelties of the mortal world, has made you blind to the fact that you cannot exist as so... And to do otherwise denies your very being."

Kaldr lowered his head, anger turned to turmoil in his mind and heart. Everything the dragon said was correct, and he hated it. Rather than argue, he remained silent and waited to hear if the Dragon had more to say. Before finally replying, "Do you know what Paarthurnax is planning?"

"... He would share no details unless I pledged my allegiance," The Ancient Dragon answered, "But I am not so sure that he is the in charge... Whoever commands him, and the others that have joined this cause will not make a move until they are absolutely sure of your defeat..."

The Dovahkiin nodded, "Thank you... That is all I needed to know." He turned and began to walk away, before stopping and looking back at Odahviing, "I will not call upon you again, until I know I am worthy of your service once more."

"And when that time comes, I will answer."

As he took off, the Dragonborn made his way back to the Sleeping Giant. Stepping inside and thinking on what the Dragon said. Trying to settle his mind before resting, stepping into the room he'd be sharing with his would be killer.

Milos was already snoozing on one of the beds, quietly sleeping with a bottle in hand and laying on his side. He looked surprisingly peaceful for a daedric monstrosity...

Kaldr reluctantly removed his helmet, setting it down on the table along with his boots and gauntlets before laying on his own bed. Laying his head back and staring at the ceiling, a single mantra echoing in his mind.

 _"I must do better..."_

The world had grown much darker while he hid away in Whiterun. How many great evils were plotting his downfall or other terrible things? No, this had to stop. And it would begin with the New Order.


End file.
